


Nectar of the God-sized Inflated Egos

by Baneberry



Category: The Transformers (IDW Generation One)
Genre: M/M, Oral Sex, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Sticky Sexual Interfacing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-11
Updated: 2018-03-11
Packaged: 2019-03-29 17:43:14
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,760
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13932072
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Baneberry/pseuds/Baneberry
Summary: Pharma's more of a channel kinda guy, as Ambulon's about to find out.





	Nectar of the God-sized Inflated Egos

**Author's Note:**

> Based on [this post](http://lewdtfthoughts.tumblr.com/post/170231099636/pharma-really-enjoys-having-his-valve-kissed): "Pharma really enjoys having his valve kissed, eaten out and worshipped in any possible way. Loves to be made to overload by the clit-node stimulation only. All of his partners were eager to do it, though: you don’t meet a mech with such a beautiful, juicy pussy every day, actually."
> 
> I chose Ambulon because _who wouldn't_?

Pharma knew two things about himself to be absolutely true: he was an excellent doctor, and his channel tasted like Heaven.

One didn’t need to ask what either meant or provide them proof. His work, and the folks who’d been lucky enough to eat him out, spoke for him. You could argue Pharma having a massive, bloated ego was also an undeniable truth, too. Pay it no mind, Pharma told himself; people were simply jealous, intimidated by his superior skills and prowess, his mind as sharp as the blades and scalpels he used with such elegance in surgeries.

Pharma, however, preferred his more professional reputation precede him rather than the latter. He was picky with partners, had only interfaced with enough bots that he could count them all on his fingers and still have some left. Pharma’s palate broadened over time, especially after being relocated to Delphi: this cold, miserable planet, surrounded by uncouth, mouthy, ungrateful miners, always overworked, always having to keep his colleagues in line. When it came to decompressing sexually, Pharma didn’t have many bots 0to choose from.

That was fine. If anyone knew how to bite their tongue, it was Ambulon. He had no room to judge others, after all. Though hesitant at first, he agreed to the impromptu tryst with Pharma. After Ambulon’s shift, he met the CMO in his quarters, already lounging in his desk chair turned to the door. Ambulon recoiled in surprise, cheekplates hot; Pharma was expecting him, gave the warden his private passcode (that he’d change after tonight). Therefore was completely comfortable sitting there with his legs spread open, finishing off a cube of engex, and lightly pawing at his exposed channel.

Ambulon gulped.

“Close your mouth, warden, you’re letting in buzz flies,” Pharma scoffed, but there was no malice in his tone. Not right now, at least. “Don’t keep me waiting, Ambulon.”

Ambulon tugged on his collar. He invented, and for a moment, reconsidered. This could be… very dangerous. Very risky. Pharma could use this against him; insubordination, could even go so far as to say Ambulon forced himself on him. It was no secret the jet loathed Decepticons; as far as Pharma was concerned, even ex-Decepticons still deserved a hefty punishment.

Ambulon shut the door, stiffly crossed the room. He spotted Pharma’s berth, disappointed; fine, okay, he was going to have to kneel on the ground then. Whatever. Pharma probably got off on Ambulon on his knees anyway. Pathetic traitor, right where you belong.

But Pharma said nothing. His smile was coy, mischievous, but not cruel. As Ambulon knelt between his legs, Pharma withdrew his hand from his channel, fingers coated in thin layers of lubricant. “There,” he snorted, “I did a little work for you.”

Ambulon frowned. “Yeah. Thanks.” He could always leave, this smug son of a… He placed his hands to Pharma’s knees, leaning in. Nice scent, fresh, clean, just like the rest of the jet. Pharma’s optics glittered as the warden drew ever closer. It was almost like a spider watching a helpless butterfly become snared in their web.

Ambulon closed his optics; it’d been a while, and he’d told Pharma that, but hey… Couldn’t blame the guy for trying. Pharma knew this might end up… unsatisfying. Ambulon ran his tongue slowly up and down along the medic’s folds. Soft, plush, his lubricant tasted just as sweet as his scent. It was… unexpected. Ambulon swallowed, smacking his lips, surprised.

Pharma tried not to smirk, expecting this.

Ambulon continued nuzzling the folds. Tongue pressed down, pulling up hard enough to roll the soft dermal plating along. Pharma twitched, digging his fingers into an armrest. Ambulon switched between folds; bringing tongue up, back down, before using a finger to tease one while suckling on the other. Pharma wriggled, and Ambulon liked that reaction; he bit down, ever so gently, and Pharma gasped.

Ambulon sat back, invented, his lips a pale violet. He used his thumbs to pull back and pin Pharma’s folds open, hood exposing his ceiling node. Ambulon cautiously swiped his tongue inside the outer mesh walls; such sweet lubricant, but the inside of his channel… so much softer. So intoxicating. Ambulon didn’t realize he was going a little too fast, his tongue moving in deeper, probing and thrusting-–roll out, roll back, roll out, swirl and lap.

Pharma moaned, tearing his digits into the armrests. Ambulon, shaking and foggy-minded, had buried his face in Pharma’s channel. Tasting as much of him as possible. Those velvety, inviting, pliable walls that quivered and pinched around his tongue, his parted lips. Grazing teeth, but never biting down, never hurting. Ambulon’s tongue found more nodes, pleasured them enthusiastically as his head bobbed along, faster and faster little by little.

God, this was so good. How could it be this good? It didn’t make any sense. What was Pharma drinking? What made his fluids taste so delicious, his dermal plating so soft and silky? “Scho goohd,” Ambulon mumbled into his channel, vibrating along the walls. He pulled back, tasting and slurping up the lubricant from Pharma’s folds again, drawing little nibbles down each.

“Am… bulon…” Pharma hissed, optics narrowed and flickering. He placed a shaky hand on Ambulon’s head, broke the warden from his daze. “My n-node…”

Ambulon quivered, nodded. He first kissed the anterior node, engorged and just as smooth as the rest of the jet's channel. Pushed it between his lips ever so slightly, just enough to suckle. Pharma ground his teeth, nearly smashing his pelvis against Ambulon’s face. Ambulon started lapping the node like before. By the way Pharma squirmed and whimpered, this part of his channel was the most sensitive.

“Frag,” Ambulon exvented, dizzy. He pressed his tongue against the node, drew heavy circles around it. Pharma almost tore the metal from his armrests. Ambulon flicked the node with the edge of his tongue, keeping up the same tempo. The CMO’s venting was picking up a little; he smeared and rubbed his channel against Ambulon’s mouth, silently begging for more.

Ambulon focused on the one special spot: the anterior node. He continued bobbing his head, keeping up the rhythm and pace. Too fast, too slow, and it would all fall apart. Pharma was getting closer to the edge, anyway. Ambulon generated more coolant, warm and slick as it mixed with Pharma’s fluids. Suckling felt good, but it was the licking, the furious speed of his tongue against the CMO’s node that really revved Pharma’s engines. Ambulon stuck to that, wrapping his arms around the jet’s thighs and pulling him closer.

“P-Primus!” Pharma croaked, his throat dry. His entire body shook, wings hiked and actuators cramped from the tension. He bent forward, pouring over Ambulon, hands braced on his shoulders. “A-Ambulon… mm!” Pharma hooked one ankle around the warden’s back, digging the heel of his boot into his backstrut. “I’m g-going to… to…!”

With one last swirl of Ambulon’s tongue, Pharma overloaded. It was… powerful. Ambulon would have been surprised, might have even fell back, if he wasn’t so dumbfounded and lost in the haze of his own lust. Pharma howled, chassis rattling; he overloaded hard, squirting thick gobs of transfluid down Ambulon’s throat, against his mouth. It lasted almost a full minute, and with one final hiccup, Pharma dropped back in the chair, huffing and puffing.

Ambulon quietly sat back on his legs, wiping the transfluid from his face. He gulped the rest down, a shiver running up his backstrut. He stared at Pharma, his weak, boneless body, then at his channel. Dripping still, the walls fluttering and the dermal layering flushed purple with energon. Ambulon couldn’t _stop_ staring, running his tongue along his lips, his teeth, the roof of his mouth, tasting every last drop of lingering transfluid.

Pharma closed his optics, fans helping cool him down. He’d almost stopped shaking when Ambulon suddenly grabbed him by the hands, pulled him from his chair. Pharma gave a comical “ack!” as he was clumsily tugged to the floor, manhandled by the Combiner. “What–-?” His optics widened, shocked, as he was maneuvered on top of Ambulon, sitting right on his face.

Ambulon held Pharma’s hips, and started round two.

“Frag, A-Ambulon!” Pharma yelped, dropping his hands to the floor and clawing. Ambulon moved slow, at first, but didn’t wait for Pharma to finish recalibrating. The damn bastard. He ate the CMO out with such vigor, such newfound strength, Pharma was actually impressed. He was exhausted himself, and this certainly wasn’t helping. But damn if it didn’t feel good–-a little overstimulating, aching as much as it pleasured. Hot, burning; Pharma moaned, rolling his hips and channel in Ambulon’s mouth.

The penetrating tongue felt a bit different from this position. Ambulon still paid close attention to his swollen node, however. “Nn, Amb… ulon…” Pharma stammered, bouncing and wiggling. Lines of lubricant spilled on the floor between them. He’d been told he was always a bit… wetter than usual. Not that his partners said it was a bad thing; health-wise, Pharma knew it wasn’t a problem, either.

Ambulon groaned, gulping down lubricant between his licking. God, it was like nectar. Someone could get addicted to this shit, and that was a hilarious thought. A drug made out of a bot’s channel fluids. But at this point in time, in his current mental state, Ambulon figured it’d be okay if he just ate Pharma out all day everyday for hours on end. Especially if it was this nice, especially if it made _Pharma_ this nice. He was barely talking, just a noisy, rambling mess, and that might have pleased Ambulon more than the juicy channel itself.

“Am–-!” Pharma overloaded again, and this time his vision momentarily blurred, glitching out then back online. He curled back into an almost perfect arch, wings stiff but fluttering. He could feel his own fluids puddle beneath him, Ambulon’s lips brush his folds as he swallowed them down. Pharma’s hips twitched, once, twice, milking himself to the last drop before he sunk back to sit on Ambulon’s chest.

The two bots vented heavily, both a mess. Ambulon quite a bit more, actually, his face covered in transfluid. Hungrily licking fluids from his lips. Pharma wanted to scowl, but just looked away, a touch embarrassed.

“That was… _incredible_ ,” Ambulon rasped, wiping off his optics.

“I t… told you…”

“So!” Ambulon cleared his vocalizer, and his head. “Wanna do that again some time?”

Pharma wrinkled his nose, as if offended by the question. The sheer audacity of this traitor… “Next week,” he grumbled, “same time, same place.”


End file.
